Someone Like You
by Amber85
Summary: After having watched Laketown burn, Kíli and Tauriel struggle with the decisions of those whom they have pledged to follow. With the odds against them more than ever, will they find a way to be with each other? Kíliel romance. Rated M for sexual content in Chapter II.
1. Part I

_Author's note: Summer is over and I'm back to writing fanfic - yay! Here's a little something I have been working on. Please notice that this is **not** the sequel to my other story, "Only the Stars Were Watching." It's just a short(ish) Kiliel fic I've had at the back of my mind for a while. I will be posting it in 4 parts, in relatively close succession (it's all written already, I just need to proofread and edit it all)._

_The title is "Someone Like You" because I originally had the idea for this story while listening to the song of the same name by Adele. The song and the story are however only very loosely connected. The story is a little sad, but it also has its happy moments, I promise.  
_

_Hope you enjoy!_

_Warnings: Some mature content in Part II. Also some minor spoilers for the third movie, mostly stuff from the trailer. Goes off-canon after Part II. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or any of its characters._

**Part I**

_2941_

"I will have war!"

Kíli stared at his uncle in utter horror, his blood curdling in his veins. For a second it felt as if the ground beneath his feet was slipping away and he briefly closed his eyes, exhaling the breath that an invisible, iron fist seemed to be squeezing out of his already battered body.

Opening his eyes again, he wished that all of this had just been a very livid nightmare and that he would find before his eyes not Thorin, obviously driven mad by the treasure that lay buried beneath the mountain at their back, delegations of both Men and Elves staring back at him with varying degrees of hatred, shock, frustration written on their faces. But it was all real. Thorin had just declared war to those who should have become their allies, those who were their only hope of not simply repeating the history of this cursed kingdom all over again.

Not able to bear what he was seeing any longer, Kíli tore his gaze away from his uncle, scanning the crowd of Elves and men opposite their small dwarven company. Scanning the crowd for one pair of green eyes in particular, one head of luscious, red hair. When he found her and saw her staring straight back at him, he realized with a sinking sensation that they would be fighting on different sides of this battle, that his uncle's words had just turned them from unlikely allies, hesitant friends, unacknowledged - _lovers_? _maybe_? - into enemies within a heartbeat.

He dropped his gaze to the ground when he saw her eyes cloud with pain, not able to stand looking at her. This was wrong. So wrong. And yet, when his brethren began to move, retreating into the mountain, he went with them, his feet acting on their own accord, unable to resist following the patterns they had been taught to follow all of his life.

* * *

Struggling to lift a massive statue from where it had crashed to the ground, Kíli did his best to assist his company in barricading themselves against the attack that was surely to come in the next few days, if not hours. Neither Bard nor Thranduil – _especially_ not Thranduil – would sit back and let Thorin continue to provoke and taunt them without taking action, without striking back.

Breathing heavily, he looked at the face of the statue he had just helped raise from the ground, its stony, grey features suddenly swimming before his eyes to be replaced by pale, silky skin and a face more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in this world. A face that had turned his simple life upside down ever since he had first laid eyes on it in that strange, unearthly forest they called Mirkwood. _Tauriel_…

He let go of the statue and stumbled a few feet off to the side, falling to his knees when his stomach suddenly clenched in the most painful manner, causing cold sweat to break out on his forehead. He retched, but in vain. There was nothing he would have been able to relieve himself of – he had not eaten.

A cool, calloused hand was suddenly pressed against his feverish face. Fíli.

"What is the matter?" Kíli heard Thorin ask, his voice close by and yet strangely distant, slightly annoyed.

"He is still weakened," Fíli returned, the worry in his voice impossible to miss. "He needs to rest."

"We are few as it is," Thorin replied coldly. "I need every hand available."

At his uncle's words, Kíli tried to get up from the ground, unwilling to give his uncle any more reason to think him weak than he already had. Even after everything that had happened, a small part of him still longed for Thorin's approval more than anything else. But he found that his body refused to obey and he faltered, closing his eyes in both shame and exhaustion.

Fíli straightened up, but kept a hand resting on Kíli's shoulder. "Can you not see that he is of no help to us right now? That keeping him here might put his life at risk? Let him rest, Thorin, _please_."

Thorin did not reply for a moment. "Fine," he finally said. "Take some time to gather your strength. But you, Fíli, you stay. We have more than enough work to do."

Kíli heard his uncle leave, but kept his gaze down, embarrassed by his most recent display of deficiency. Fìli knelt down next to him once more. He reached out to help him up, but Kíli shrugged him off. "I'm fine, Fíli, just let me get back to work."

Fíli shook his head. "No, you're not. Look at you, brother, you're as white as a sheet. Is it the arrow wound? Maybe it has become infected again, just allow me to-"

"No," Kíli cut him off. "My leg is fine, alright? Just leave it be."

Fíli sank back onto his heels and looked at him. "Yes, yes, your leg is fine, I get it. Then whatever else it is that is troubling you, go and try to sleep it off, get it out of your system or I don't know what. You are in no shape to fight as it is. I cannot – _will not_ – let you go into battle like this."

Kíli stared at his brother, his voice hollow when he spoke. "Can you not see that it does not make much of a difference? That Thorin has condemned all of us to a certain death anyway?"

For a few seconds, Fíli remained silent. "Well," he then said, "if you keep going like this you will surely get yourself killed, I agree with you on that. And I will not 'leave it' until you haul your stubborn behind out of here and lie down for a while."

Kíli looked at him and could see some of the desperation, some of the bone chilling fear he felt himself mirrored in Fíli's face. But apparently his older brother had decided to accept their fate and see it through to the end because, really, there was nothing that could be done to stop the chaos that was on the verge of unfolding in front of them. Finally accepting Fíli's hand and allowing him to help him to his feet, Kíli resolved that, for one last time in their lives, he would follow his brother's example and make himself come to terms with what he knew in his heart was a terrible, tragic mistake brought about by the lust for gold and riches that had afflicted so many of his ancestors, had destroyed so many innocent lives already.

* * *

Tauriel stared at the shadows dancing across the fabric of the tent assigned to her, unmoving. They had made camp at the foot of the mountain, just outside the ruins of the city of Dale, waiting for the reinforcements from Mirkwood and what had once been Laketown to arrive. Planning their attack.

As Captain of the Guard – and from the way things looked right now, her recent disobedience to the king had not affected her status as such, overshadowed as it had been by Oakenshield's declaration of war – she had participated in many of the war councils held that day. While on the outside she had tried her best to maintain the professional, detached air of an experienced soldier, on the inside she had felt like a small child, helplessly watching those around her act out of revenge, hatred, greed, unable to comprehend why any of this was happening.

Now, at the end of this long day, she felt empty inside. Everything that had occurred those past few days, everything she had done, the lives that had been risked – had it really all been in vain? Did it all amount to them slaughtering each other over something as trivial as gold and jewels?

She was torn out of her thoughts when the flap of her tent was thrown aside and Legolas stepped inside, his face grim. He looked at her sitting on her narrow, uncomfortable cot and frowned. "Should you not be preparing yourself for what lies ahead?"

Tauriel frowned and stood up, not liking how he towered above her, making her feel small and foolish. "Trust me," she replied coolly, "I am prepared."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Are you, Tauriel?"

"This is not the first battle I am fighting," she said. "You do not doubt my skill as a warrior after all those years of fighting at my side, do you?"

He shook his head. "No." Fixing his gaze on a spot somewhere slightly above her head, he continued. "I came to assure myself whether you truly understand what side you are fighting on. Whether, if need be, you are prepared to lay any interests that you might have of your own aside and act in accordance with your king's wishes."

She looked at him, surprised. And hurt in a number of ways that were too complex for her to fully grasp. "Do you question my ability to distinguish between friend and foe?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You have defied my father before, Tauriel. Left without order or permission to follow the dwarves, to save the young one."

She shook her head. "I cannot believe that you would say this. You _know _that I did what I did to hunt down those orcs because they had crossed a line they never should have dared to cross. You were _there _with me."

Legolas did not reply, but merely stared at her intently, a sad little smile on his lips. Which unnerved Tauriel more than she cared to admit. It made her feel like he was seeing right through her, into her soul, where she had carefully locked away those confusing feelings that she had recently experienced whenever her thoughts turned to a particular, dark haired dwarf. Not even to speak of the curious things her body did whenever she laid eyes on him. Blushing, trembling, yearning for another smile from him. Those were not sensations she was used to.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked past Legolas, coming to stand at the entrance to her tent. Night had fallen outside and only the number of campfires told her how many had already arrived to join the attack upon Erebor that was to be launched in the days to come. The dwarves were, in their own manner, skilled fighters and had been able to find their way out of more than one dangerous situation in the recent past, she knew that. But against this – they would not stand a chance.

"I am sorry if my actions caused you to doubt my integrity," she said to Legolas without turning around to look at him. "But I assure you that I know where my place is. I will fight for Thranduil in this battle, with all the consequences that it might entail." She kept her tone neutral, but even as she spoke those words, she saw Kíli in front of her inner eye, his lifeless eyes staring back at her, his throat cut by an Elven blade. Quickly, she pressed a hand to her mouth to prevent a small whimper from escaping her lips. "Excuse me," she got out, "I need to…" She broke off, drawing a shuddering breath. "I will be back shortly."

And with that she stumbled out of her tent before she could embarrass herself in front of Legolas and contradict everything she had just said to convince him of her unbroken, unwavering loyalty. Staggering blindly into the night, she ignored Legolas calling after her, hoping that he would not follow, hoping that somewhere in the dark night she might find a place to pull herself together again before she fell apart completely.

Leaving behind the sea of lights cast by the many small fires, she quickly put as much distance between herself and their camp as she could, repeating one question over and over in her head. How could it ever get this far? And the only answer that she had to this, was that apparently it was not only her own king that was blinded by motives far beyond what she perceived of as honorable. That selfishness and avarice were what governed this world, making all of their leaders ignorant to the true threats that were lurking in the shadows, only waiting for one – or all - of them to take a false step.

She gazed up at the stars in the sky and thought that had she been wise enough to realize this earlier, had she foreseen that Oakenshield would turn the dwarves' quest into a suicide mission for himself and his company, she might never had saved the young dwarf prince. Because, after all, what good had it done? She had brought him back from the shadows, had allowed herself to let her guard down and be touched by his soft brown eyes somewhere deep inside of herself, only to have to watch him be killed by her own kin. Possibly by her own hand, if what she had told Legolas only minutes ago was true.

Ascending a small hill covered in tall, damp grass, Tauriel let her head hang low when she realized that no, she would probably not have acted any differently had she known what the outcome of Thorin Oakenshield's quest would be. Because, no matter how hard she had tried to deny it in front of Legolas, her sole reason for leaving Thranduil's halls to follow the dwarves had been that she knew if she let Kíli die without at least trying to save him, she would never forgive herself, would never find peace again.

She jumped a little when she raised her gaze again and, in the pale light of the decrescent moon, saw a lone figure sitting on what appeared to be a flat rock at the top of the small hill she was currently climbing. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized who this was.

The small sound escaping her lips made Kíli raise his own head and he smiled sadly when his eyes fell upon her. For a moment they just stared at each other. "It seems that you always find me, no matter where," Kíli finally said, his voice tense and a little raspy.

Tauriel averted her gaze for a moment, frowning at the implications of his words. Yes, she always did seem to find him, as if they were tied together by an invisible cord, making it impossible for either of them to get away from the other without them noticing. Most of those times she arrived just in time to save his life, but not this time – now he seemed quite safe, despite the fact that the danger looming above him was much more grave than any of the life-threatening situations he had found himself in since she had met him what seemed so long ago, but had in fact only been a few days past. Looking back up at him, she saw him scoot over on the rock he was sitting on, an unspoken, shy invitation in his eyes.

Shrugging herself out of her stupor, she quickly ascended the last few feet and gingerly lowered herself next to the young, strangely handsome dwarf, unable to quite look at him. An awkward silence fell between them for a few moments.

Finally Kíli cleared his throat. "I have never had the chance to thank you properly for healing me back at Laketown. Nor for saving my sorry ass twice before that." That much was true. While she did in no way reprimand him for not expressing his thanks previously, she did regret that, amongst the chaos created by the arrival of one terrible dragon, its subsequent destruction and unexpected return of her friend Legolas, they had never found the time to talk to each other without the hindrance of his fever, his delusional state. Without being able to sort out what exactly it was that made every moment they spent together feel slightly short of breath and more valuable than any jewel buried beneath that cursed mountain.

She smiled wryly in response to the dwarf's statement. "Do not worry yourself. What I did for you was merely a matter of course."

She felt his eyes on her. "It was?" It was only a few words, but the intensity with which he said them and the look that he gave her, made a shiver run down her spine. How was she supposed to answer this question? _No, it was far from self-evident. I deserted my king, deserted my people, knowing that you might die a certain, cruel death if I didn't, unable to bear the thought?_

When she did not reply, but blushed a little, Kíli added, his voice more than a little bitter. "It does not matter either way, I suppose. There won't be any more need to save me when this is done."

Finally, she found the courage to look him in the eye. The conflicting feelings mirrored in his gaze nearly took her breath away. "It should not be like this. Your people and my people against each other," she heard herself say, her voice crumbling slightly. "None of this should happen."

Her heart gave an unexpected jolt when his rough hand suddenly covered hers where it rested on the surface of the rock they were sitting on, his touch reminding her of when he had reached for her hand back in Bard's house. Only, where his touch had been hesitant and gentle back then, it was now desperate, bruising. "Do not grieve yourself over this," he said. "I understand that you have no choice in this matter. Look at me. I know that this is all a horrible mistake, a product of the insanity which has befallen my uncle. And yet I find myself unable to stand up to him, unable to try and change the path he has chosen for us. Mahal, I shouldn't even be out here. Thorin would be livid if he knew I had stolen outside, while they are working on sealing the mountain off on the inside." He looked at her with heartbreaking anguish in his gaze. "I wish I could stand up to him. But I _cannot_."

She looked straight at him for a few second, not knowing what to say to this because, really, there was nothing to say, nothing to argue. Turning her hand over beneath his palm, she lightly entwined her fingers with his, knowing that she should not, but unable to resist.

"Does it really have to be this way?" she finally asked, desperately searching her mind for a solution to their dilemma. "Is there truly nothing that can be done? Nothing that could convince your uncle of ending this?"

Immediately she could feel his barriers come back up again. He stiffened and withdrew his hand. "I told you already, there is nothing that I can do. Thorin will have war, and he shall get it." His tone had turned from warm to cold within the matter of a few seconds and he would not meet her eye. "If worse comes to worst, Tauriel, I want you to not hold back. Do what you need to do in order to keep your honor upright."

She inhaled sharply, shocked by his words. She knew that he said what he said only out of desperation, out of fear, but still it hurt. He had not said her name once since he had revealed his true feelings to her during his fever back at Laketown, and to hear it spoken now together with his indirect plea to kill him if need be was painful in ways beyond what she might have been able to put in words. Unable to deal with this, unable to confront the abyss that his words tore open inside of her, she jumped up from her seat. "Then I fear there is nothing else to say," she said, her voice hollow.

She meant to move away, meant to mumble a quick goodbye, something to give a verbal ending to this thing between them, even if she knew that her heart would not be satisfied by it. But as she took a step, his hand wrapped itself around her slender wrist, abruptly yanking her back around to face him.

In her position in front of the rock he was still perched on, his sudden movement caused her to come face to face with him more closely than she was used to being with anyone else, their difference in height balanced out by the relatively steep decline of the hill they found themselves on. More out of reflex than out of actual insult, she tried to pull away immediately. "What are you doing?" she hissed below her breath.

He did not answer right away, but let his gaze drift down to her lips ever so slowly, making her tremble slightly below his gaze. "If you do not want this," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "then I beg you, stop me. If you do not want this, then please teach me how to stop wanting it. How to stop wanting _you_." He lifted his eyes back up to hers, his tone tortured when he spoke again. "I cannot stand this, Tauriel. It is killing me to feel the way that I do."

* * *

_To be continued._..

_Love it? Hate it? Please let me know what you think and leave a review._


	2. Part II

_Author's note: Thank you all for your kind feedback! Glad you liked the first chapter. As promised, here's the next one already. Hope it lives up to your expectations!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit._

**Part II**

She found that she was suddenly unable to breathe, a dizzying sensation spreading through her head. The feeling was joined by a tingling sensation deep inside her belly, making her insides turn to mush. She knew that she should step away, should probably even punch him for touching her like this, no less for speaking to her like this. But despite the fact that her head told her all of this, her heart had a different agenda altogether and so she took the half step necessary to align her body with his and pressed her lips to his in a movement that seemed to shock him as much as it shocked her.

Their kiss was clumsy at first, neither of them having expected this sudden turn of events. But quickly their lips accommodated themselves to one another and, as Tauriel inched even closer to Kíli, he cupped her face in his rough hands, deepening their kiss as she slid her hands around his broad back, clutching his body to hers in utter desperation.

When they broke apart, she leaned her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily. "I cannot let this happen," she suddenly said, the anguish that she had felt all day breaking out of her. "I have to do something to stop them. I cannot lose you, not before…" She fell silent. Not before what indeed? Before she had found the answer to the question he had asked her when he had lain on a table in Bard's house, his fingers brushing against hers shyly, tenderly?

While the rational part of her mind vehemently tried to deny it, in her heart she knew that she did not have to look for an answer, it was already there. Yes, she could have loved him. Could have if fate had not bereaved them of a chance to find out what exactly it was between them. Her breath hitched on a small sob brought about by this realization. She looked him in the eye, a single tear slowly making its way down her cheek. She did not even bother to wipe it away – now that it was certain that there was no future for them, what was the point in trying to suppress her true feelings, in putting on a brave face when all she felt was grief and sadness. "I cannot leave you behind," she whispered.

Kíli moved his thumb to brush away her tear. "Then don't," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Not yet at least." His burning gaze in combination with the ever so slight blush spreading across his cheeks made it clear to her what he was asking her. _Stay with me tonight. Give me this one night before everything falls apart, before the end of all things._

Tauriel inhaled sharply, his suggestions sending her mind reeling. She told herself to refuse him this wish, told herself that the impropriety of the mere thought should make her cringe with embarrassment. But at the same time she could not deny the slight, most pleasurable tingle that his words caused to erupt all over her body, the slow, languid warmth that his suddenly husky voice caused to spread from deep inside of her, pooling between her legs.

Her face burning, she took a deep breath, but did not move away from him. She commanded her body to step away, but she suddenly seemed rooted to the spot. Not knowing what to do, she simply closed her eyes, her heart beating so fast that she could feel it against her throat.

When Kíli's lips brushed against hers once more, she kept her eyes closed, not encouraging him to continue, but by no means indicating that he should stop either. What she could not control however was the quickening of her breath that his touch brought and she felt him smile against her lips when he became aware of the effect that he was having on her. As his lips left hers she almost wanted to utter a complaint, but restrained herself. Then, when merely a split second later he brought his lips to the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, that carefully upheld restraint seemed entirely forgotten and she let out a small gasp, instinctively tilting her head to the side to allow him better access to that precious patch of skin he was so gently caressing.

Despite herself, Tauriel felt her arms wrap themselves around his neck and back as if guided by an invisible force, pressing him closer against herself, her hands running across the rough fabric of his clothes, tangling in his unruly hair.

Emboldened by her response, Kíli put his arms around her waist, drawing her firmly against him. Somewhere at the back of her mind Tauriel found herself wondering if dwarves became intimate with each other in the same way that elves did. The thought suddenly made her nervous and left her fearing that maybe she would not be able to give Kíli what he wanted, that this whole thing would just end in awkwardness and shame. Those doubts were however chased from her mind when one of Kíli's wandering hands found its way between her legs, pressing gently yet firmly against her already throbbing core. Tauriel heard a small moan escape her lips and for a moment she thought her knees might buckle under the ripples of pleasure that his touch was sending through her body. No, they definitely had the same idea of how this worked.

Continuing like this for a few minutes, Tauriel felt the world fall away slowly, Kìli's lips against her skin and his hands on her body the only things that mattered now. Just when she felt her body drawing closer to that edge that would send her into complete oblivion, she was torn out of her trance by the echoes of shouting and a burst of laughter from somewhere below. Reminded of where they were and what they were about to do, she drew away self-consciously. Kíli, too, paused in his administrations to her body and lifted his head to look at her, uncertainty shining in his eyes.

Tauriel knew that if either of them spoke now, the spell that they had been under for those past few minutes would break and they might shrug this off as merely a moment of weakness and try their best to part as friends as reason commanded they do. That thought caused a sudden panic to erupt in her chest and she found herself desperately wanting to prolong their encounter, to allow what had been boiling below the surface ever since their eyes had first locked, standing amongst the dead bodies of giant spiders back in Mirkwood, to break through, to become real. Just this once.

And so she silenced the words that were already half formed on his lips with a kiss and took him by his hand, pulling him with her as she stepped away from the rock he was still perched on. Together they walked around the slab of rock occupying the peak of the small hill in silence and disappeared into the few trees and bushes growing behind it, letting their darkness swallow them up, shielding them from the glow of the fires burning below and the unwanted witnesses that they might bring.

* * *

Kíli chuckled lowly, pleased and surprised at the same time by the way Tauriel, this impossibly beautiful, flawless creature that fate had sent to him out of nowhere, was writhing beneath him on the damp grass. Why she would allow him – _him! _– to be with her like this, he could not fathom. But he would not question this unexpected turn of events as long as he was able to run his hands across her soft, creamy skin, touching her in places he would have blushed to be merely thinking of a few hours ago.

_Mahal_, he would be content and happy doing nothing but _this_ for the rest of his life. The feelings she stirred in his chest were different from any emotion that even the sweetest smiles of the prettiest dwarf maids had ever roused inside him. With her he felt as if he were complete and yet falling apart at the same time, every fiber of his being on fire beneath her gaze, her touch.

He groaned and let his head drop onto her shoulder when her hands, too, became active and started exploring his body, slipping beneath his clothing that was already in a slight state of disarray. Breathing in the intoxicating scent wafting off her slender neck, he suddenly could not remove the remainder of her clothing fast enough, exposing her pale skin to the even paler light of the moon.

Bracing himself on both arms, Kíli pushed himself up a little and took his time to look down at her, taking in every detail, trying to memorize every inch of her. Her high cheekbones, currently flushed with excitement and arousal. Her startling eyes, glazed over with passion. Every small freckle on her white skin he tried to burn into his memory, hoping that he would be allowed to take this exquisite image of beauty with him into the afterlife, if there was such a thing.

Tauriel brought his attention back to the here and now by lifting a hand to press it against his cheek, causing him to lock eyes with her.

"I need you, Kíli. _Now_," she said, her voice throaty.

The intensity of her gaze, coupled with the words she spoke, caused a flash of desire to run through Kíli's body, making his manhood twitch in anticipation. He could not believe they were doing this. The part of him that was innocent - yet not inexperienced - told him to stop, told him that he needed to preserve her honor, told him that someone like her should be courted, should be treated with respect and reverence. And yet, as he looked into her eyes, he knew that this was what they both wanted and that those were not the times for thinking twice, for hesitation.

Growling lowly, both from arousal and frustration at his distracting thoughts, he swept down upon her, catching her lips in a deep, bruising kiss. Before he knew it, Tauriel was pulling his tunic over his head while he was struggling out of his trousers, impatient to grant her hands – very, _very_ skilled hands - complete access to his body.

He sighed against her lips as she ran her hands over his now bare back, raking her nails across his skin. Shifting his weight slightly, he guided one of his hands down her body, reveling in the fact that his touch actually caused goose bumps to erupt across her delicate skin.

Allowing his hand to travel even lower, he rubbed two fingers against the sensitive skin between her legs, the wetness he found there and the small moan that escaped her lips almost making him come undone right then.

Unable to hold out any longer – and apparently not expected to do so judging by the way Tauriel instinctively spread her long legs, drawing him closer against herself with her arms still wrapped around his neck and back – Kíli slowly guided himself towards her entrance, exhaling deeply before pushing himself inside of her carefully.

The feeling of being inside of her was overwhelming. He gasped as previously unknown waves of pleasure rolled through his body – and he had not even moved yet. He could tell though, from the way that Tauriel's fingers were digging into the skin of his back and the way that her body trembled beneath his, that for her the experience was equally intense. And he knew that, if he wanted to, this could be over within a couple of seconds – for both of them. But while his body craved that sweetest release, he wanted to make this last for as long as he could and so he began to move inside of her with slow, languid thrusts, sometimes pulling out of her almost entirely in an effort to remain in control, his breathing shallow as he watched her whole body come alive with passion.

Soon – too soon – he found his self-control slipping as his Elven lover moved her slender legs to wrap around his waist, gently urging him to increase his pace. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest as both of their movements became more frantic, the tension in their bodies building up to a point where the other's touch became both gratification and torture at the same time.

Hardly able to control his movements anymore, Kíli moved one hand to grasp one of Tauriel's hands that was still clasped against his back, entwining his fingers with hers on the ground beside them, squeezing as hard as he dared without being afraid to hurt her. He felt her return the gesture until her grip onto his hand suddenly loosened when her inner walls began to constrict around him, accompanied by a small cry from her lips.

Gladly he followed her over the edge, finally allowing his body the release it had been longing for ever since – if he was honest – he had asked her to search his pants for weapons in a quip that had come out much more intense and loaded with genuine sexual tension than he had intended. Shuddering under the intensity of the moment, Kíli brought his lips to Tauriel's in a breathless kiss, trying to pour into this kiss all the things that he would not say, not so much because he did not dare to, not anymore, but more because he knew that this night was not a night for big words. Because words would only leave scars in both of their souls. Right now he was happy, incredibly so, and he did not want to say anything that would spoil the moment, would make the darkness they both knew was hovering on the edges return.

Gasping for breath he rolled off of her, simultaneously slipping one arm under and around her shoulders to pull her against him while searching the ground beside him for his cloak with his free hand. Retrieving it from the damp grass, he spread it over both of their bodies.

As the thick fabric descended upon them, Tauriel let out a content sigh and snuggled up against his side, making his heart sing with a feeling he could not quite pinpoint. Strange and familiar at the same time, wrong and yet so very right. Staring up at the clear sky, he wondered what he was supposed to do now, how he was expected to act. Basically this whole thing had started out by them arguing – would they resume their argument now that they had gotten everything out of their systems?

He did not want to argue. There really was no point in doing so. He just wanted to hold her, wanted to savor every second with her that was given to him.

Feeling Tauriel stiffen slightly against him, he guessed that her thoughts were running along a similar trail as his. When he heard her small intake of breath, he closed his eyes briefly, bracing himself for another attempt of hers to figure out a way how to set right what could not be set right, how to solve a conflict that was no theirs to solve.

He was surprised, however, when only two words got past her lips, accompanied by a small tear rolling down her perfect cheek.

"I'm sorry."

To anyone else those words might have been hurtful, might have caused them to think that what she was referring to was what had just happened between them, that she was sorry for ever allowing things to go this far. But Kíli understood what she was trying to say, knew the many things that she attempted to encompass with those simple words because, really, there was no way of expressing what they both felt.

"So am I," he thus said, hugging her lithe body closer to his beneath his cloak, trying to let her know that she did not have to explain herself. He knew.

Turning his head slightly he brought their faces level and leaned his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent once again. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the stars shine above them in the sky and swore to himself that, similarly to the way she viewed the stars, she would be _his_ memory, precious and pure. Even if, come tomorrow, she would be further away from him than ever.

* * *

Kíli woke up to snowflakes falling from the sky, wetting his face where they melted against his skin. The sky was still almost dark, only a slight, grey hue predicting the approach of dawn. Turning his head to the side, he realized that Tauriel was gone, only the imprints in the tall grass next to him a proof that she had ever really been there, that what had happened the night before had not been a hallucination possibly induced by another fever.

Under different circumstances he might have been hurt by finding himself alone upon waking, even angry or insulted. As it was he merely smiled a bittersweet smile when he realized that she had left without a word of farewell. It was just as well. They would not have been able to say goodbye to each other anyway, it was simply too painful.

Pushing himself up off the ground he gathered his clothes, not even feeling the cold seeping into his bones. Too warm were the memories he had of the previous night to allow him to feel cold. Heading back to the mountain, hoping that the secret exit he had found the previous night had not been discovered and blocked from the inside yet, he felt a curious mixture of hope and desperation, fear and elation course through him. Little did he know that somewhere, only a short distance away, a hobbit was on the verge of doing something that would surely change the plans of the king Kíli had pledged to follow into a certain death, something that would alter everyone's fate.

* * *

_tbc..._

_A little warning for the next chapter... some of you might have noticed that I began this story with the number of the year in which the Battle of the Five Armies takes place. The second half of this story will be set in another year. What year, you will find out soon..._


	3. Part III

_Author's note: Alright , this is the rest of my little story (posted in two parts). I'm not sure if everyone will like what I did here, I wasn't even sure I would in the beginning, but then I tried it and for me it worked. Hope you enjoy it, too. Someone called this story bittersweet in a review, which made me very happy because that's exactly what I was going for - so here we go._

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit and never will._

**Part III**

_2991_

Slowly she made her way through the undergrowth, moving stealthily in order not to give away her presence by snapping a twig or something the like. The cold winter air made her breath come out in small, white puffs and she forced herself to keep her breathing shallow and regular, despite the fact that it was considerably quickened by the nervous pounding of her heart.

Emerging from the tree line, she found herself at the back of a small house built out of wood, a single lamp shining through one of the windows. It was not completely dark outside yet and her keen Elven hearing picked up the sound of someone moving about somewhere at the front of the building. When she heard a small wince followed by a quiet curse, she recognized the voice immediately despite the fact that the language it spoke was foreign to her.

She froze in place, her heart jumping into her throat. She almost turned back around to disappear back into the woods right there and then. Why had she even come here, what was she hoping to accomplish by this? Surely nothing good could come of it, only more pain, more heartache. And yet there had been nothing that could have stopped her when she had found out that, apparently, his life had taken a different course altogether than she had expected it to take during those past fifty years.

Why this realization in particular had been the one causing her to finally overcome her manifold fears and act and not the initial news that he had indeed survived the battle that had gone into history as the Battle of the Five Armies, she could not say. Shouldn't one, upon learning that someone dear, so very dear to them lived when they had been thought dead already, rush to that someone immediately? Instead here she was, after half a century of not seeing him, not once outwardly acknowledging his existence or the bond between them, hiding in his back garden.

* * *

Frowning in concentration, Kíli tried to fasten the latch of the additional lock he had added to his pony's stable, cursing when his fingers, numb from the cold, failed to accomplish the task at first try. The animal did have quite the temperament and an uncanny ability to escape from any kind of enclosure, so he always did well to be especially cautious. Despite all that trouble, he would not have exchanged Daisy – who did nothing to honor her gentle name – for another pony under any circumstances. More than once she had faithfully carried him out of difficult, possibly dangerous situations. She was stubborn, yes, but also loyal and he valued that above everything else.

Finally closing the lock securely, he stepped back and looked at the night sky. It was one of those clear, crisp nights where the forest around him was so eerily quiet that it almost bothered him. He did enjoy the secluded life he lived out here, away from the turmoil that places such as Erebor necessarily brought. And, after all, he could always immerse himself in the happenings in the small settlements around him when he chose to. As the sole remaining heir of Durin living in the area, people looked to him for advice and guidance and gladly welcomed him into their midst whenever he made an appearance. But he did not do so very often, he did not really need the company nor the feeling of importance that others might have enjoyed. Only on nights like this did he feel a little lonely out here, like something essential was missing from his life.

Tearing his gaze away from the stars he gave a low sigh and turned around to head back to the house. He looked forward to a quiet night in front of the fire and a nice dinner. This perspective was, however, disrupted when he suddenly became aware of another presence out there with him. How this presence made itself known to him, he could not quite tell. He had not heard anything, nor seen anything. It was more like a feeling tugging at his insides.

Surprised and slightly alarmed his hands immediately groped for weapons, however the only thing that he carried on his body was a small hammer he had previously used to replace some loose nails in his fence. It was not much, but his aim was no less true than it had been when he was younger and if he threw the hammer with enough force at the unwelcome intruder…

Spinning around abruptly, Kíli raised one above his head, ready to hurl the small tool at whoever was lurking in the shadows-

\- and dropped it when he realized who it was. His eyes widened both from pain at the impact that the hammer made with his foot and the shock of actually seeing _her_ standing in his garden, staring back at him with equally wide eyes.

He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head vehemently, thinking that this had to be some kind of hallucination, a dream maybe, and yet when he opened his eyes she was still there. Tauriel.

With Durin's Day not too long past, it had to be almost exactly 50 years since he had last laid eyes on her, her perfect face illuminated by the light of the moon and the glitter of the stars in a similar manner as it was tonight. And she had not changed one bit since then, seemed not to have aged a single day, as if that one night spent together had been just yesterday. But then of course to her half a century had to pass within the blink of an eye, time not leaving its marks on her. Only someone who knew her well might be able to detect in her eyes the effect that the past fifty years had had on her, imprints of moments of joy, moments of pain. Pain mostly, Kíli judged for himself, as he studied her intently. But who was he to presume to know her? After all they had only had a few fleeting moments together somewhere amidst the chaotic events that had shaped the course of his entire life.

Kíli frowned, trying to breathe calmly despite the suddenly tight feeling in his chest and the heavy lump in his throat. Tauriel simply stared at him, biting her lip. She opened her mouth to speak, but then seemed to falter, pursing her lips.

"What are you doing here?" Kíli suddenly heard himself say, his voice sounding as if it came from someone else's mouth, not his. Immediately he hated himself for sounding rather gruff – he was simply so completely and utterly taken by surprise.

Tauriel flinched at his – unintentionally – dismissive tone. "I- I apologize," she stammered, taking a step back. "I should never have-"

"No, _no_," he interrupted her, slightly panicked by the thought that she might as suddenly disappear on him as she had come. "I did not mean it like that, not at all. Please stay."

Stepping a little closer to her, he gave her an uncertain smile which she returned before dropping her gaze a she spoke. "To answer your question, I honestly do not know why I have come. After all this time…" She frowned sadly, those last few words barely above a whisper and filled with regret.

"Not everything needs to make sense," Kíli tried to console her, smiling wryly. "And please do not even begin to apologize. After all I never came to look for you either."

For some strange reason, saying those words out aloud, acknowledging that they had both consciously chosen not to come to the other after the great battle, lifted a heavy weight off his chest. Ah, how many sleepless nights had he spent tossing and turning, forever wondering if his decision had been right, more than once waking up in the middle of the night, ready to jump out of bed and go find her, continue where they had left off the night before the battle. But come morning he had had yet to make a move, each and every single time.

Now she stood before him, a bittersweet smile on her lips. Was that a tear he saw glistening in the corner of her eye or just the reflection of a star in the sky?

"I did come eventually," she said after a while, not quite meeting his gaze. "To your uncle's kingdom, I mean."

He looked at her in surprise once again. "You were at Erebor? When?" he asked, perplexed.

"A few months past," she replied, smiling a little sheepishly. He felt that there was more that she was going to say and so he waited until she continued, hesitantly. "I had made myself believe that the right amount of time had passed, that now we might cross paths again without… without pain." He watched her struggle to continue and a part of him wanted to tell her that that it was alright, that she need not explain herself. However, another part of him urged him to let her go on, to make her say the words she obviously had a difficult time finding.

When she found the strength to look at him again, her eyes were darkened by a very intense combination of emotions. "I was wrong," she half laughed, half sobbed. "Wrong because when I heard that you were in fact not leading the life I was so very convinced I should stay away from, a life in which I had no place, I immediately questioned my resolutions. And so," she drew a shaking breath, "so here I am. Make of that what you will."

Kíli had to swallow repeatedly against the constricting feeling in his throat. His heart screamed at him to close the distance between them, to wrap her trembling body in his no less shaky hands, but he held himself back, the only sign of what her words meant to him his hand that closed itself around hers for a brief moment, squeezing it tightly.

Breaking their eye contact before his resolution broke, he turned his gaze back to the sky, noticing that a few clouds were gathering. Earlier that day it had snowed for the first time that year, but it had already snowed quite heavily then and now it looked as if there would be more snow coming soon. A small voice inside of him piped up that this might mean that she would have to stay for a while, that he might have her with him a little longer.

He shook off those distracting thoughts and looked at her once more. "Will you come inside?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. "There's a fire and there's food, which I would be more than happy to share with you."

She smiled, visibly relieved that for now they were taking a step back from those very tense, serious words that had been exchanged between them. "Yes, thank you."

His hand itched to take hers in his and lead her towards his house, but again he restrained himself, balling his hand into a fist. "Come on then," he said, hardly daring to turn his back on her, afraid that she might not still be there when he turned back around.

* * *

_One more chapter to go..._

_For those who were wondering: Kíli is 127 in this second half of the story, which would make him around 40 in human years (according to my research...)_


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

Nervously, Tauriel followed Kíli inside the house, trying to calm her stomach that had started rolling at the thought what this night might bring, whether coming here had been one of her better choices in life or one of the worst.

Looking at him from behind, she thought that, yes, he had changed in those five decades since she had left him sleeping atop a small hill far away from here, on the other side of the Misty Mountains, but he still looked young, much younger than she had expected him to. His shoulders had grown a little wider and his beard had become a little more substantial, but only slightly so. In comparison to the spectacular beards that some of his kin wore proudly, his was still merely a stubble. Tauriel wondered whether this came naturally to him or whether he maybe kept it short deliberately, and not for the first time she found herself guessing at the significance that beards were endowed with amongst his kin. She had never quite figured that out.

Either way, she had been shocked when she had first laid eyes upon him and had found him less changed than she had told herself he would be, his dark eyes and wry smile still making her feel all those things she had thought she would not feel anymore after such a long time.

Stepping over the threshold to his home, she felt her heart beat in anticipation, the act strangely intimate to her. The interior of the house was comfortable, but rather basic. Nevertheless, Tauriel felt an immediate sense of warmth envelop her, stemming from more than merely the fire that was burning in a large crate at the center of the small house.

Sending a brief smile into her direction, Kíli headed off to what Tauriel could only presume was the kitchen because seconds later she could hear the distinct clatter of dishes. Shrugging out of her coat, she sat down on a bench close to the fire and stretched out her limbs, reveling in the way the warmth of the fire seeped into her chilled bones.

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to relax, to calm her thoughts. She had known that coming here to see him would be hard, that they would not be able to act as if nothing had ever happened, as if no time had passed. Still, the tension was taking its toll on her and she knew that for now they were only postponing things that would have to be brought up sooner or later.

Opening her eyes again, she saw Kíli standing opposite her with two bowls of stew in his hands, looking at her with such an intense expression on his face that her heart sped up again immediately. Smiling shyly, she scooted over on the bench, making room for him. He sat down next to her and handed her one of the bowls, its heat warming her fingers that were still slightly numb from the cold.

They ate in silence and while Tauriel actually found herself rather enjoying the taste of his cooking, with every spoon she found it harder to continue eating, her stomach tying itself up in knots. She was relieved when he finally set his own bowl aside. Apparently his appetite was not that great either.

Placing her dish on the floor, she turned sideways on the narrow bench and leaned against the wall next to the fireplace. For a few seconds she allowed herself to enjoy looking at him in the light cast by the flames, his face looking even younger now than it had before, outside in the cold light of the moon. He turned towards her as well and for a while they both sat there, just looking at each other.

When Tauriel began to feel rather self-conscious, she sat up and dropped her gaze, trying to find something else to look at except for his unsettlingly handsome face. Her gaze caught upon a flat stone he wore on a string of leather around his neck. It was not the stone she had touched so many years ago, no, she would not forget that one. Not so much because it had, in itself, been in any way remarkable to her, but rather because the memories she connected with it were amongst her most treasured ones.

Without thinking, she reached out and brushed her fingers against the stone resting against his chest, the warmth radiating off his body nearly making her breath hitch in her throat. She felt him stiffen slightly, but he did not pull away. Lifting her eyes back to his, she saw a curious mixture of emotions in his gaze, most of which she could not place. "Another token?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled a strange little smile. "Something like that, yes." He fell silent, but she could tell that there was more to it. After a few seconds he continued, speaking slowly, hesitantly. "It was a gift," he said, "from my wife."

Tauriel withdrew her hand as if she had been burned, the delicate bubbles of hope that had begun rising inside her soul because of the way that he had looked at her before, bursting all at once. Making to rise from her seat to put some distance between them, she began to stammer. "I- I'm sorry. I did not mean to- I mean, I should not have assumed…"

She was interrupted by his hand wrapping itself around her wrist, firmly pulling her back down beside him. "She died," he said. "Almost ten years ago."

Settling back next to him on the bench, she made an effort to calm herself, trying to process this situation. "I'm so sorry," she again said in a low voice, unable to meet his gaze. Really, what had she expected? That he would spend his life alone, pining for her, even though his time in this world was limited? And, more importantly, would she have wanted him to remain alone, miserable?"

Despite the fact that she showed no inclination of moving away anymore, Kíli still kept his hand wrapped around hers, loosening his grip only to entwine his fingers with hers, lightly. When he continued to speak, she kept her gaze fixed on their hands, completely overwhelmed with the whole situation.

"You would have liked her," he said and she could tell from his voice that he was smiling. "She never listened to anything anybody told her to do, always followed her own head. Stubborn and reckless people called her – even more so than me." That provoked a small smile from Tauriel and she turned her head slightly to look at him. The smile on his face remained, but turned a little sadder when he added, "Unfortunately those excellent qualities were what killed her in the end." Tauriel questioningly raised one of her eyebrows. "An accident," he explained and she nodded, not really wanting to force him to elaborate any further.

"So you have been living here on your own ever since?" she asked, finding herself looking for any sign whether the house might have any other inhabitants.

As if reading her thoughts, Kíli said, "Our marriage was childless. So yes, I have been on my own for those last couple of years. Except for those times when my brother comes to visit."

Tauriel bit her lip, not really knowing whether the fact that his marriage had never been blessed with a child made her happy or sad. "Why did you not return to Erebor?" she asked, trying to find a more neutral topic for conversation.

He leaned his head against the wall and turned his head to stare into the flames for a few moments. "It simply isn't the right place for me anymore," he answered. "Never quite has been. Too much has happened to estrange me from that original quest. The Lonely Mountain … it holds too many painful memories."

He looked at her and she felt herself quiver beneath his gaze. It seemed that they simply could not find a topic of conversation that was not loaded with tension. Taking a deep breath, she scooted a little closer to him.

"If time could be rewound…" she whispered, but he shook his head.

"We would still be making the same decisions," he said, his eyes gentle. "And who could blame us? Who would have the strength to stand up to what we would have had to face?"

Tauriel felt tears burn in her eyes at the realization that he spoke the truth. The last fifty years had been filled with a fair amount of pain and regret, but, given the choice, their younger selves would, sadly, choose the same path again. Kíli, too, leaned in a little further towards her when he noticed the tears beginning to rise in her eyes, his hand squeezing her's more tightly. His face was now impossibly close.

"And today?" she said, her voice shaky. "Would you say that the circumstances have changed since?"

"No," he breathed. "But I find myself not really caring about that. And I think that neither do you – you being here is the best proof of that."

She blushed a little beneath his gaze. Summoning all her courage, she whispered, "I have an even better proof for you." And with that she leaned in, closing the few inches between them, and pressed her lips to his.

For a split second neither of them moved, both of them shocked at the spark that this very chaste kiss sent coursing through their bodies. Recovering from his initial stupor, Kíli sighed against her lips and reached out to pull her more firmly against him, deepening their kiss. One of his hands wrapped around the back of her neck and the other around her waist she molded herself against him, the feeling of his lips on hers almost too much for her.

When he suddenly broke their kiss, she blinked a couple of times, completely disoriented. "Your clothes are all wet," he muttered, his hand pressing against her waist more firmly.

Her muddled brain took a moment to process his words and once it did, she smiled a little sheepishly. "The snow…" she attempted to explain, unable to form a coherent sentence. She had somehow forgotten about the state of her clothes since she had arrived and only now did she become aware of the wet cloth clinging to her skin. The cold could not really hurt her, but it _was_ quite uncomfortable. Biting her lower lip she looked at him. "Help me remove them?"

She could see his eyes widen in surprise and quickly a grin spread across his face. It took all of her willpower not to avert her gaze, her own boldness almost too much for her to bear. But then again, they had already wasted half a century of their time together, why would they dance around each other now?

Rising from the bench, Kíli gave a little mock-bow, extending his hand to her. "Follow me, milady."

She chuckled lowly and put her hand in his, more than happy to obey his command.

* * *

Looking out of his window, Kíli watched the thick snowflakes drift by outside. The fire in his living room had long died, but despite that fact he did not feel cold. How could he have with Tauriel's warm body pressed against his beneath the blankets, her head resting lightly on his chest.

He turned his head and buried his face in her lovely auburn hair, inhaling her scent. His body felt tired, most of his energy spent, but when she ran her hand across his upper body, his heart sped up once again. He wrapped his hand around her wrist before her hand could travel any lower. Rolling onto his side, he rested his head right next to hers on his pillow, their foreheads almost touching.

He simply looked at her for a long moment until she began to grow uneasy under his gaze. "What is it?" she asked, smiling a little self-consciously.

"I know it probably does not mean much to you if I say this because you have often heard it, but you really are breathtakingly beautiful," he said, watching a slight tinge of color rise in her perfect cheeks.

Putting her palm against the side of his neck, she gently caressed his cheek with her thumb. "It does mean a lot to hear it from you. To be close enough to you for me to hear it."

He smiled and turned his face into her palm, kissing it lightly. For a few minutes they just lay there, content to look at each other. Slowly, Kíli could feel his eyelids grow heavy from the comfortable warmth enveloping him and the gentle, regular strokes of her thumb against his skin.

"You should sleep," she whispered.

He put a hand over hers, squeezing it. "Will you still be here when I wake up?" he asked her, trying to keep any insecurity out of his voice, but not entirely managing to do so.

She leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I will. That is a promise." She hesitated and bit her lip, a gesture he had come to associate with her being slightly nervous. "In fact, I thought that it might be unwise to depart too soon, now that winter seems to have fully arrived."

She looked at him a little uncertainly, obviously trying to gauge his reaction. He tried to give her a calm smile while, truth be told, he was feeling slightly lightheaded with happiness at her indirect suggestion. "Absolutely," he replied, trying to keep his voice matter-of-factly. "The winters around here can be rather harsh. You should at least stay until the worst part is over, possibly even until the snow begins to melt."

"Until the snow begins to melt," she repeated. The grinned at each other like fools – happy fools, though.

Tugging her towards him, Kíli pressed a lingering kiss against her lips before rolling onto his back once more, pulling her with him so that her head came to rest on his chest again.

Sighing contently, he soon felt himself drift off to sleep. "Until the snow begins to melt," he muttered again before finally closing his eyes, his face buried in her hair.

* * *

Every year that they spent together, on the first day of snow, Kíli and Tauriel, the dwarf and the elf who had eventually found themselves after they had each thought the other lost to them more than once, would share this private joke that she would only stay until the snow would begin to melt. And, of course, each and every year she would still be at his side when spring finally came, and they would watch the world around them come alive again after a long, hard winter.

**The End.**

_Thank you everyone who took the time to read and review. Your support means everything. I hope you all enjoyed reading this little fic! Keep looking out for the sequel of my longer Kiliel story, "Only the Stars Were Watching," which will go online sometime within the next couple of weeks._


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